Running
by lyviel
Summary: Matt Miller was so young when he joined The Syndicate. He witnessed so much death all at once, including the murder of his coworker. Fearing for his life, he eventually ran to England but that couldn't distance him from the memories. When Killbane escapes his battle with the Saints it only makes sense for him to come after Matt. Nightmares and a training session with Asha at MI6.


Matt Miller was running for his life.

There was no one in the darkened streets. He gasped for breath, his strained lungs burning. Somewhere behind him he could hear Killbane calling his name.

The Saints had let Killbane live for some unfathomable reason, so of course his first stop on his little revenge spree had been him. He had already killed Kiki; the memory of that day would haunt Matt for the rest of his life. Even remembering her caused him to flinch, hearing again the sudden and unexpected snap of her neck. Viola was smart; she had gone to the Saints after that. He should have gone as well, but he was too terrified and perhaps a touch too arrogant to think of going to an enemy for help. Then when he had gone up against the Saints, he had barely escaped with his life. Thank god their Boss was greedy. He didn't think any of them would be forgiving after that though, no matter his bribes, so he had lost his chance.

Besides, he wasn't sure that they would have been any better than Killbane. "Oh and Matty, feel free to use me as a reference," Killbane had said when he told him he was quitting. Like hell. Matt just wanted to leave all of this behind. Would it all follow him to his grave? Of course that wouldn't be too far off with Killbane after him. He had lost his gang, and any friends he had made he had left far behind when he ran to England. He was completely alone.

He practically dove into a narrow alley that he had almost missed in the gloom and crouched, trying to catch his breath. His legs felt weak and he wasn't sure how much longer he would be able to keep this up. He had never been particularly athletic. He could hear Killbane thundering down a nearby street, but he was disoriented and couldn't tell which direction the sound was coming from. His heart was pounding too loudly and he found it difficult to think. How could he let this happen? He should have taken better precautions in covering his tracks.

"Oh, Matty!" came Killbane's voice, all too close.

Matt shuddered. That voice chilled him to the bone. Should he run? What was he supposed to do now? He would eventually be found, and he certainly wasn't a match for Killbane in any way. Was this it? Was he going to die here in this back alley in terror? He knew Killbane would make it painful. He was just a kid—how had any of this happened? Normally he hated it when people called him a kid; he had accomplished so much in his life, and he deserved better. But right now he felt so young and helpless and he knew he had gotten into this mess all on his own. He closed his eyes tightly as a crash from nearby told him Killbane had taken to smashing cars. Perhaps he would tire himself out? Or he would be distracted enough for him to slip by? Yeah right. He gave a bitter laugh but it only came out as a strangled sob.

He didn't want to die here. He stood and began running again. Perhaps there was still a chance, perhaps he could find something, anything, that he could use to his advantage. He turned down several streets, hoping to lose him if Killbane had seen him. Suddenly he heard the squeal of metal and the whoosh of air behind him. He dropped to the ground, curling into a ball as a car landed a few feet in front of him, metal bits flying. He looked at the smashed car, then twisted to see Killbane walking towards him.

"Nice one, Matty," he said with a chilling smile. He was still wearing that stupid mask. "It wouldn't have been any fun at all if it had been that easy."

Matt scrambled to his feet. Terror was blocking out every thought except to run, to get away, but he wasn't quick enough. Killbane already had a huge hand around his throat. He lifted him off the ground with ease.

"So, what should we do with you, Matty?" Killbane smiled a cruel smile. He slammed Matt into a nearby building and—

Matt sat up in bed, covered in a cold sweat and breathing heavily, a blanket tangled around him. He looked around the dark room, not sure where he was. His hand shook as he moved to wipe his forehead, and then he just sat with his face in his hands trying to steady his breathing as he pieced together what had happened the last few months. It was true that Killbane had escaped the Saints' wrath, but he hadn't heard anything of his activities since. Matt had fled to England immediately and MI6 had promptly snatched him up. He was working with a terrifying woman named Asha and…

"I'm late for training!" he leapt out of bed and ran about the little room, adrenaline still high, grabbing his clothes and attempting to get ready as quickly as possible. Keeping Asha waiting was never a good idea.

All agents were required to know something about combat, and Asha had insisted on training him herself. She had said that it was her duty to make sure her field coordinator was capable and she wouldn't leave the task to anyone else.

Matt was breathing heavily when he finally reached the gym. Asha was already there, tapping her foot impatiently and looking as intimidating as always. She was wearing the usual gym uniform; they had a bloody uniform for everything in this place, it seemed. Matt had refused to wear it at first until Asha demonstrated in great detail why it wasn't smart to wear quite so many belts and straps when sparring. He was still sore.

He muttered an apology as he ran up to her. She raised an eyebrow at his unusually subdued manner but said nothing. He wondered if he was pale, or at least paler than usual. He wondered if she could see the strain building on him. He had very little interaction with the other agents, which he preferred, so Asha was really the only person he could consider a friend. She was still terrifying, though, and he had no idea how to talk to her about his fears, let alone whether she would welcome it.

But Asha knew—she had to, didn't she? It was her job. He felt like a fool for thinking there was something about him that she couldn't read. It was obvious that she knew when she started by saying, "Today we will be doing Aikido. It focusses on using the opponent's strength against them. We will start with a couple throws." Then a large man who would have looked at home with the Luchadores stood up from the bench he had been sitting on and approached. "Allow me to demonstrate first," she said, gesturing to the huge man.

But Matt wasn't listening. He stared in horror as the man charged Asha. He remembered his dream, and Kiki, and every time Killbane had knocked him down with a chair and he couldn't move. But then Asha simply slipped to one side, grabbed the man's arm, and twisted. Matt wasn't even sure what had happened, but suddenly the huge man was sprawled on the floor.

"There," said Asha calmly. "It is rather simple. Try it with me first to get the hang of it."

Matt's training went on for some time. He had never been very athletic, so it was slow and painful, but the more he learned, the less frequent his nightmares became. Killbane had been defeated; he had to remind himself of that. He had been so big, so powerful, that Matt had doubted it was even possible. He would never be as strong as Asha, and he knew he would never be a match for Killbane, but at least he might stand a chance now.

He wasn't helpless anymore.


End file.
